


Her Boys

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-13
Updated: 2012-03-13
Packaged: 2017-11-01 21:18:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/361352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ellen Harvelle, while a self-proclaimed badass, was always one to get sentimental. She liked to take care of people, listen to what they had to say, and give them a good ass-whooping when they needed it. Soon, John Winchester's boys became like her children. Her boys.</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="http://tiptoe39.livejournal.com/1303389.html">Written for the WAFF-a-thon 2012</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Her Boys

            There were four things Ellen Harvelle knew for certain: One, that a bottle of whiskey would never last long around hunters; two, that her daughter, Joanna Beth, was the most beautiful thing on God's green Earth; three, that there was no way in Hell that anything on Angelina Jolie was real; and four, that the Winchester boys were good, good men. Even after Bill's death thanks to John, Ellen couldn't fault the man for long. Some nights, she'd still wake up and call his name to see where he went before it hit her all over again, but she always pulled through. She was a strong woman. So, when John's boys found her at the Roadhouse, she knew she had to help them.

            The first day they stayed with her, she made them breakfast, as she figured that they hadn't had a real homecooked meal in a long time. "Whiskey and Whataburger," She said, "isn't the best thing for growing boys to be eating." Dean rolled his eyes at her treating them like they were five again, which gained him a thump on the back of the head by Ellen. After that, Dean Winchester never rolled his eyes at Ellen Harvelle ever again.

            Sam was a lot less backtalk than Dean, but he had his share of Ellen's motherly wrath. The boy would sit around and read and brood and it drove her mad. But, after a while, Sam and Dean became just as much her boys as they were John's. Sam and Dean. She'd do anything for those stupid boys.

            In the days leading up to the apocalypse, she did do everything for them. She kept Bobby's house while researching, taking care of Jo (Even if she insisted that she could take care of herself), helped Bobby around in his wheelchair, and put blankets on Sam and Dean when they fell asleep in Bobby's livingroom while doing research. She taught Cas how to drink, she hunted and fought, all without any thanks. But, since when do mothers get thanks?

            The night before they went to shoot Lucifer, Dean had drifted off, stinking of whiskey, with Sam's laptop on the coffee table. A smile curled on her lips as she laid a quilt down on top of him and tucked in the edges. She kissed the top of Dean's head, knowing this was her last chance to treat Dean like he was her boy, and pulled away. She didn't anticipate Dean waking up, not at all.

            "Ellen?" Dean groaned, sitting up with the quilt wrapped around him. He resisted the urge to ask her 'What the Hell?', but the look on his face transmitted it enough. Ellen sat down next to him and pulled him into a hug.

            "After all these years, Dean, I'm not allowed to make sure you don't freeze to death when you sleep? Sam doesn't complain."

            "Yeah, well. Sam's a girl." Dean's words were met by Ellen thumping the back of his head again and glaring. "Right. Well. You're a badass girl. You and Jo. We couldn't ask for better family, Ellen. You and Cas and Jo and Bobby."

            "I better be the best family you have," Ellen chuckled, "Considering you don't have much." Dean rolled his eyes again, but smiled. She fluffed his hair like a child, then got up and walked towards the kitchen. "I'm hungry. You want a PB&J, Dean?"

            "Yes, ma'am." Dean replied, a huge grin on his face. He felt like he was four again, like nothing else mattered except for PB&J sandwiches, baby Sammy, and what cartoons were going to be on the TV that day. 


End file.
